Our Company
by Enide Dear
Summary: Rufus must convince Reno that ShinRa belongs to them all. Smut and langauge warnings!


Title: Our Company  
Author: Enide Dear  
Pairing: RenoxRufus  
Warnings: NC-17! Smut and foul language  
Summary: Rufus must convince Reno that ShinRa belongs to them all  
A/N: For :iconiluvwinning: who gave me such nice reviews!

Reno had a certain smell around him, from the flaky, dried blood on his clothes – not his own – from the garbage and sewers his heavy combat boots had treaded through, from cheap alcohol bought in seedy bars. From violence. From Underplate.

Today the smell was even stronger, impregnating Rufus' stylish office and overpowering its normal scents of expensive leather upholstery, rich furniture wax and even the young president's own cologne, a subtle, expensive concoction that stood no chance against the heady brutal mix.

Rufus breathed deep, drinking it all down while trying to feign interest in the Turks short mission report, thankful that his heavy dark mahogany desk covered his growing hard-on. Tseng never understood why Rufus insisted on hearing out Reno's reports himself. Rufus claimed it was because Reno was volatile and unpredictable and needed to be looked after. It was even true, in a way.

"…so we got your fucking precious blueprints and got the Hell out of there. Only some fucker figured us out and Rude got a bullet through his leg and was bleeding like a stuck pig. He's in intensive care now, not that you give a shit, sir." Reno slurred underplate-drawn was even harder to understand now that his voice was harsh and clipped. The first time Rufus met him he'd thought the man was either high or drunk or possibly both, but he later found out that it was the slum street-rat in him that he never seemed to be able to leave behind. Or want to leave behind.

"I do care. Rude is in good hands. He'll be alright." Clipping his eyes, Rufus tore his mind back to the present. It shouldn't be legal for anyone to look so angry and sulky and sexy at the same time as Reno did, sprawled out long-legged and whip-thin in a heavy leather armchair, glowering at his boss.

He didn't know why the man was so angry with him today, but he wasn't about to take any shit from an underplate Turk. He stared back as icily as he could. "Is there a problem Reno?"

But executive ice stood no chance against Reno's fiery rage. The red-head stood up, quickly as a striking snake and Rufus recoiled involuntary. It was easy to forget just how dangerous Reno was when irate. Rufus almost reached for the shotgun under his desk but the sneer on Reno's face stopped him. They both knew he'd never get it up from under the desk quick enough.

"Wassa matter, boss?" The EMR beat an erratic tapto on Reno's bony shoulder. His shirt – covered in dry blood – was hanging loose and the red rat-tail snaked down his collarbone. Rufus licked his lip, trying to regain control. "Chickenshit already? Scared? Fucking frightened? And just for me, yo. Imagine feeling like that twenty-four seven for a month, just so you can get your fucking industrial secrets. And Rude got shot."

"It wasn't like that…"

"It was just like that!" Reno took two long strides and suddenly he was up in Rufus' face. "Rude. Got. Shot!"

He was so close now, too close, way inside Rufus' personal sphere, hanging over his boss and screaming in his face. Close enough to kiss, but he didn't dare to. Flustered, scared and even more aroused than before, Rufus' didn't know what to do. Surely Reno would never hurt him? But Rude was shot. In intensive care, Reno had told him. And that made Reno even more high-strung than usually, perhaps even dangerously so. Rufus swallowed, trying to think, to stay level headed.

"I…am sorry about Rude. Truly I am. When he's healed enough I'll give him a week's paid vacation in Costa del Sol to recover." This was ridiculous. He was being harassed and blackmailed by his own Turk! A simple press on a hidden button and the office would be swarmed with Soldiers, Turks and the one man Reno did respect and fear, Tseng. One simple press and Reno would be gone…forever.

Rufus didn't press the button. He would deal with this himself. He could deal with this himself.

Reno glared at him for a few more seconds, eyes narrow with suspicion, but finally slouched back to the chair and flopped into it, the lethal tension once more gone although the sullenness and anger remained.

Against his will, Rufus eyes strayed further down towards the man's crotch. There was blood on the suit thigh as well, sluggish red and still dripping. "You are hurt." He gasped.

"What's wrong, yo? 'Fraid I'll bleed all over your expensive chair?" Reno snarled back, making no move to even touch the bleeding. Rufus was having none of it; his heart had already skipped one beat.

"Here." He tossed over a clean handkerchief. "At least use this."

With angry contempt, Reno watched the white square of cloth fall to the floor between them.

"For Shiva's sake, Reno!" Annoyed and still a bit rattled Rufus walked around the huge desk and crouched down to pick up the handkerchief. He pressed it against Reno's thigh, a bit harder than necessary.

And realized what he was doing.

He was kneeling between Reno's legs, his hand pressed against a strong, muscular thigh. Blue eyes gazed hooded down on him, glittering.

Rufus should have stood up, should have ordered the insubordiant and manipulative Turk out of his office. But something – the scent of danger, the warm thigh under his hand, the look in those eyes – held him in place.

"So maybe I'm getting tired of putting my ass on the line for your company, yo." Reno drawled with deceptive laziness. His hand – long fingered, competent and with smudgs of blood under the nails – caressed through Rufus' hair, only to stop with a hard grip of blonde strands in his fist.

Rufus looked down, his heart beating fast. A few gulps of breath to steady himself did nothing but bring that volatile smell deeper into his lounges.

But he couldn't help but bristle.

"*My* company, Reno?" He laughed a bit breathless. "It is every bit as much your company as mine, and you know it. Without the Turks ShinRa would have been finished after Meteor."

"Oh yeah? Then why is it we do all the hard work and you sit in your fancy office all day?" The grip on his hair hardened, just a little. But this time Rufus was ready. His own grip on Reno's wounded leg got firmer, but if it pained then the Turk didn't show it with so much as a twitch.

"Oh, I fight as much for ShinRa as you do, Reno." He whispered. The grip he had on the leg got softer again as his fingers started moving up and down the long limb. This time Reno did twitch, but out of surprise. "Just because my battles take place in an air conditioned room doesn't make them any less lethal." He moved his hand up, found the pants zipper and buttons and opened them. Reno didn't move, didn't push him away, but the grip in his hair lessened somewhat. Rufus took that as acceptance.

"What you mean, yo?" Reno asked, softly, as Rufus pushed up his shirt, revealing a lean belly and a red treasure trail going down. He couldn't help himself; he pushed his face against that smooth skin, inhaling deeply, letting his tongue dance over hard muscles and soft belly button.

"In an executive war, you have to know what you want." Rufus hands moved up the Turk's legs, his mouth moving down. Reno was getting hard but he didn't show anything, no sped up breath, no push on Rufus head. He just sat still, willing to see where his boss would take this.

Rufus took it all in his mouth, finally tasting what he'd just smelled before. A small hiss escaped Reno and the grip on Rufus hair grew harder again for a second.

Rufus felt lightheaded but he couldn't stop. He'd wanted this for so long and he barely noticed how tight his own pants were. The hot, hard rod in his mouth, the sound of Reno's breath, it was all he wanted…

The grip in his hair grew harder, pushing his face away from Reno's crotch. Blue eyes glittered even more dangerously now.

"And what if what you want ain't what the other man wants?" He breathed hoarsely. A firm grip on Rufus' arms and the president was pushed back on his huge desk, Reno prying his legs apart and leaning over him. The white suit got grey smudges everywhere the Turk suit rubbed against it, grey and red smudges and Rufus gasped with want.

"Then you have to know…ah…when to give and when to take."

Rough, clever hands pulled down his ruined trousers, not caring about the button that flew off. Reno caught his mouth in a hot, angry kiss even as a slick finger pushed inside him, coating him with…something best not thought of. Rufus didn't care, he was way past caring now; instead he twitched on the finger and moaned into the harsh mouth, wanting more.

When he got it it was almost too much.

"Shit!" He gasped, clutching onto Reno's shoulders because it _hurt_ but the look on Reno's face stopped him from demanding him to go slower; after all, what was this compared to getting shot? So he bit his lip and tried to relax even as the dirty Turk worked himself deeper inside him. And suddenly he gasped out in pleasure, his body finally relaxing.

"Take and give, huh? That's what executive wars are like?" Reno bit his earlobe, causing him to gasp once more, but a hot tongue licked off the blood. The hands holding him down released their grip, got softer in their touches, even though the motion of Reno's hips showed no sign of letting down their brutal pace.

Rufus wouldn't want it any other way.

"That and…mhm…knowing when to hold on and…ah…when to let go!" His fingers dug deep into Reno's shoulders as he came, probably causing further bruising but Reno just kept going until he to came, deep and hard.

They lay panting for a while, until Reno rose up and pulled the president with him, a slight smirk on his face. The anger was gone from his eyes now, replaced by the usually mischief.

"Well, shit, sir." He drawled. "I guess ya do fight for us. For our company."

Smiling Rufus leaned up and put a chaste kiss on his cheek, just below the red scars.

"Our company."

Yeah, so I do love to get reviews ;) Thanks, dear!


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